wanting to let those in the room dwell on the severity of the pictures and lose focus, Mackenzie got right to the point.
“I think it’s safe to say that these murders were not the result of a typical break-in or home invasion. Nothing was stolen and, in fact, there is no clear indication of a break-in of any kind. There aren’t even any signs of a struggle. That means that whoever killed them was likely invited in or, at the very least, had a key. And the murders had to have happened quickly. Also, the absence of blood anywhere else within the house makes it appear that the murders happened in the bedroom – that there was no foul play anywhere else within the house.”
Speaking it out loud helped her understand how strange it seemed.
The guy was not only invited in, but apparently invited into the bedroom. That means that the likelihood that he was actually invited is a small one. He had a key. Or knew where a spare one was located.
She went on before she derailed herself with new thoughts and projections.
“I want to look at these pictures because there are two odd things that stand out to me. First…look at how all four of them are lying perfectly flat on their back. Their legs are relaxed and well-postured. It’s almost as if they were staged to look that way. And then there’s one other thing – and if we’re dealing with a serial killer, I think this might be the most important thing to note. Look at Mrs. Kurtz’s right hand.”
She gave the other four people in the room the chance to look. She wondered if Harrison would notice what she was getting at and blurt it out. She gave them three seconds or so and when no one said anything, she carried on.
“Her right hand is resting on her husband’s thigh. It’s the one part of her body that is not perfectly laid out. So either this is a coincidence or the killer did place their bodies in this position, purposefully moving her hand.”
“So what if he did?” Rodriguez asked. “What’s the point?”
“Well, now look at the Sterlings. Look at the husband’s left hand.”
This time she did not make it three seconds. It was Dagney who saw what she was referencing. And when she answered, her voice was thin and on edge.
“He’s reaching out and placing his hand on his wife’s thigh,” she said.
“Exactly,” Mackenzie said. “If it were just one of the couples, I would not even mention it. But that same gesture is present with both of these couples, making it evident that the killer did it with some intention.”
“But for what?” Rodriguez asked.
“Symbolism?” Harrison suggested.
“It could be,” Mackenzie said.
“But that’s not really much to go on, is it?” Nestler asked.
“Not at all,” Mackenzie said. “But at least it’s something. If it’s symbolic to the killer, there’s a reason for it. So here’s where I’d like to start: I’d like to get a list of suspects that have been recently paroled for violent crimes that were linked to home invasions. I still don’t think it was a home invasion per se, but it’s the most plausible place to start.”
“Okay, we can get that for you,” Rodriguez said. “Anything else?”
“Nothing just yet. Our next course of action is to speak with the family, friends, and neighbors of the couples.”
“Yeah, we spoke to the Kurtzes’ next of kin – a brother, sister, and a pair of parents. You’re more than welcome to go back to them, but they didn’t offer up much of anything. The brother of Josh Kurtz said that as far as he knew, they had a great marriage. The only time they fought was during football season when the Seminoles played the Hurricanes.”
“What about the neighbors?” Mackenzie asked.
“We spoke with them, too. But it was brief. Mostly about the noise complaint they filed about the yapping dog.”
“So that’s where we’ll start,” Mackenzie said, looking over to Harrison.
And without another word, they stood and were out the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mackenzie found it a little unsettling to revisit the townhouses. While standing in the beautiful weather as they approached the neighbors’ house, the knowledge that there was a bed in the next townhouse over that was coated in blood seemed surreal. Mackenzie suppressed a shudder and looked away from the Kurtzes’ townhouse.
As she and Harrison made their way up the stairs to the neighbors’ front door, Mackenzie’s phone dinged, letting her know that she had received a text message. She pulled out the phone and saw that the text was from Ellington. She rolled her eyes as she read it.
How’s the rookie working out for you? Miss me yet?
She nearly responded but didn’t want to encourage him. She also didn’t want to seem aloof or distracted in front of Harrison. She knew it was a conceited thing to think, but she was pretty sure he was looking to her as an example of sorts. Given that, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and walked up to the front door. She allowed Harrison to knock and he even did that with great caution and care.
Several seconds later, a flustered-looking woman answered the door. She looked to be in her mid-forties. She was dressed in a loose-fitting tank top and a pair of shorts that may as well have been nothing more than panties. She looked like she was probably a regular at the beach, and had obviously been to a plastic surgeon for her nose and possibly her breasts.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Are you Demi Stiller?”
“I am. Why?”
Mackenzie flashed her badge with an expert swiftness that she was getting much better at. “We’re agents White and Harrison with the FBI. We were hoping to speak with you about your neighbors.”
“That’s fine, I guess,” Demi said. “But we already spoke to the police.”
“I know,” Mackenzie said. “I was hoping to go a bit deeper. As I understand it, there was some frustration over the dog next door when they spoke to you.”
“Yeah, there was,” Demi said, ushering them in and closing the door behind them. “Of course, I had no idea that they had been killed when I made that call.”
“Of course,” Mackenzie said. “We’re not here about that, anyway. We were hoping you might be able to give us some insights into their lives. Did you know them at all?”
Demi had led them to the kitchen, where Mackenzie and Harrison took a seat at the bar. The place was laid out just like the Kurtz residence. Mackenzie saw Harrison looking skeptically toward the stairs off of the adjoined living room.
“We weren’t friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Demi said. “We’d say hi if we saw one another, you know? We grilled out on the back patio with them a few times, but that’s about it.”
“How long were they your neighbors?” Harrison asked.
“A little more than four years, I guess.”
“And
